Lights
by Kiheada.Ray.T
Summary: Day in and day out, it was the same routine: Take care of his father, go to work at the grocery store, come home to his shitty apartment, and wish he was in Jean's arms. Songfic. Erejean. Character death. Alcoholism.
1. Fast Car

**Fast Car**

 **Disclaimer: Nope. This fic is based on the song "Fast Car" by Tracy Chapman. Look up the lyrics since I had to take them out :/ (or read it on AO3)**

 _I really wanted some EreJean and decided to just write it myself. Plus, every time I hear this song I want to write something for it, so here you go._

* * *

Eren woke up with a sigh, brushed his teeth, threw on some clothes, and entered his father's room. The old man was laid up in bed as usual, with IVs stuck in his arms to keep fluid pumping through his veins. Eren changed his father's catheter bag and ran a wet rag over his body to clean him up.

"Where's your mom?" his father's gravelly voice asked.

Eren swallowed an angry response, having learned long ago to just let it go. "She's not here, dad. Remember? She left."

"When did she leave?"

 _When you decided to become an alcoholic and ruined your liver,_ Eren thought, but didn't dare speak the words out loud. When he was younger, he used to shout it every day. When he was younger, he had hoped his life would be better than this.

Day in and day out, it was the same routine: Take care of his father, go to work at the grocery store, come home to his shitty apartment, and wish he was in Jean's arms.

Jean, who didn't have the burden of an ill family member holding him back. Jean, who went out with their friends when Eren had to stay home. Jean, who had a fast car that could take them anywhere.

Running a hand through his hair, Eren wondered what went wrong. His father had always been a heavy drinker, although it never produced violence. The man just liked his liquor. But liquor didn't agree with his body, and when he was laid off work, he stayed at home with a beer glued to his hand and his ass nailed to the seat.

" _You need to find another job, Grisha. I can't afford to pay the bills and take care of you all," Eren's mother said one day. It was actually every day that she said this, but something was different this time. There was a finality in her voice that made Eren nervous._

" _I'll do it tomorrow," Grisha dismissed her with a lazy wave of the hand._

" _Think of Eren and Mikasa!" Carla exploded. "The four of us can't survive on TV dinners and no electricity!"_

" _They'll be in college soon," Grisha replied. "Besides, I can get disability checks."_

" _For what? Being a drunk?" she shrieked._

 _Eren winced, clenching his fork in a shaking hand. He glanced up from the table to look at Mikasa, who was wearing the same expression he had. They knew what was coming, and they were terrified of the aftermath._

" _Hey!" Grisha yelled back, easing himself up out of the chair and jabbing a bone thin finger at his wife. "I fell on the job because of their negligence, not mine! They should've paid me worker's compensation."_

" _You fell because you were shitfaced! They found your bottle of Jack Daniels in your fucking_ locker _, Grisha! How do you expect to support this family when you don't even leave the house to find work?"_

" _I've_ tried _, dammit!" his father fired back. "But people don't hire alcoholics!"_

 _There was a tense silence, where Eren could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Nausea made him put his fork down and cover his ears. Mikasa stared at her adopted parents, waiting._

" _There, I said it. I'm an alcoholic!" Grisha threw his hands in the air. "Are you happy now, woman?"_

 _Carla's face was red, and her fists were clenched. Eren dreaded the words that would come from his mother's mouth, but he could never deny that he heard them. It was real. It was happening. The eye of the storm was passing over his head and he knew what was on the other side._

" _I'm leaving you unless you get yourself together."_

" _There's the door!" he pointed._

" _The only reason I've stayed this long is for the children. But once they're off to college, I'll be gone. Change your attitude, or be alone for the rest of your miserable life," she hissed, exiting the room._

* * *

At work, Eren thought about that first year of college, when he pretended everything at home was fine and he was just a normal kid.

But Jean knew. They'd known each other since high school and started dating junior year. He knew Grisha was drunk from dawn till dusk and how shattered their family had become over the years. They used to take his suped-up mustang and ride down the freeway, going nowhere in particular.

" _We should just leave," Eren said out of the blue one day. He had been thinking it over for a while and wanted to know what Jean thought. Of course, he could always cover it up as a burst of spontaneity if Jean rejected the idea. But a part of him hoped they would just keep driving out of town._

" _And go where?" Jean asked, turning to him. They were sitting in his car outside of a burger joint where they usually hung out._

 _Eren shrugged and mumbled, "Anywhere but here." He leaned his head against the window and gazed at the stars. The teenager already felt stuck, having to go to the community college because that was all he could afford. Meanwhile, Jean was going off to some Ivy League university far away, leaving him and this small town behind. Probably forever._

" _You mean like the city?"_

" _Yeah."_

 _For a long time, they said nothing. Eren already knew what his boyfriend's answer would be, just like he knew what his mom would do once he graduated high school._

" _When I get back from college, I'll take you away from here. But not right now. We gotta think about our futures, ya know?" Jean finally responded._

 _Eren sighed, closing his eyes._

They still dated once Jean got to college, but things were strained. Separated by hundreds of miles, they would talk on the phone and occasionally make plans to visit one another.

In the middle of his first semester at the community college, his mother packed her bags and left the house. He had a feeling she planned this moment from the day his father got fired from being drunk on the job. She would call often at first to check in on him and Mikasa, but after a while they stopped hearing from her. According to Hannes, a family friend, she got remarried and was now living comfortably in the suburbs.

Half of Eren hated her for leaving his dad all alone, even though they all knew it was going to happen. Half of him wanted to be there with her, once again a child in her arms.

Instead, he decided that someone needed to stay behind to take care of his father. Mikasa refused, and Eren didn't blame her. She had more potential, more going on with her life, than he ever would. So he quit school and moved back home, getting a part-time job at the local grocery store.

By the time Jean got back from college, it was already too late. He found someone new, made more friends, and didn't want to stay in that small town forever. At least that was what Eren heard.

"Hey."

Eren blinked and looked up, interrupted in his musings. His eyes found Jean's and he paused, hands over the register. It was the first time they'd seen each other since he got back.

"Hey," he said eventually. Jean gave him a small smile, looking the same but older.

"You still working here?"

"Yeah."

"Still taking care of your dad?"

"Yeah."

Jean nodded, and Eren continued to stuff his groceries into bags.

"I'm planning on moving to the city," Jean said after a moment. He was looking at Eren with a knowing expression, like this was it. This was what he had been waiting for. "You should come."

But it was too late. "I can't. I gotta stay with my dad."

"You need to get out of here, Eren."

"I know. But I can't leave him behind like everyone else."

"Why don't we go for a drive, huh?" Jean jerked his chin in the direction of the door. "I still have the mustang." He grinned, all pearly white teeth and bright eyes.

With a longing stare, Eren finally nodded. "I'm off in half an hour."

"I'll wait."

* * *

They took off like they did when they were kids, driving so fast it made Eren feel dizzy. Lights passed them by and he wondered how far they would go. The mustang's top was down, and their hair was whipped into a frenzy by the wind. His face stung but he didn't care. Jean pulled over at one of their old spots and draped his arm around Eren's shoulder.

"I missed you," he said softly, brushing a thumb along Eren's neck. It made the brunette shudder and lean away.

"I thought you were engaged," Eren replied, probably too stiffly.

"I called it off when I got back here," Jean shrugged.

"Why?" Eren asked, and Jean finally looked at him. That roguish grin spreading across his lips and the twinkle in his eyes made Eren feel like he was seventeen again.

"I missed you."

Eren looked away. "If you stay here, you'll drown."

"Nah."

"You weren't made for a small town, Jean."

"If you're staying here with your dad, I'll stay with you."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I want to."

"That's stupid. You deserve better."

Jean grabbed his chin. "No, _you_ deserve better, Eren Jaeger. You can't spend your whole life taking care of your drunk dad. Put him in a nursing home or something. Get him a full-time nurse. Don't stop living when you have so much more to do," he pleaded softly.

Eren shook his head out of Jean's grip. "It's not that easy. I can't put him in a home. He's not even that old, he's just a lazy sack of shit. Besides, he won't let anyone else take care of him. I let Mikasa watch him one time and he threw a fit when I got back, said he never wanted to see her again, and she felt the same."

"Then let him die," Jean snorted carelessly. Eren punched him in the arm, furious. "What?" he exclaimed, rubbing the sore spot and staring at Eren with wide eyes.

"Don't you _ever_ fucking say that again. He's my _dad_ , Jean."

"Yeah, but that doesn't make you his slave. You need to focus on yourself—,"

As Jean spoke, Eren was already opening the door and getting out, walking down the road with his hands in his jacket.

"Hey! Come back, Eren!" Jean called, running after him. "Look, that was a dick thing to say, and I'm sorry, but you know it's true."

"Shut up," Eren muttered, still kicking his feet down the dirt path on the side of the road.

"Fine then. But I'm still going to stay. Once he kicks the bucket, we're outta here," Jean declared.

Eren paused and turned back to look at him. "Don't say it like you look forward to it."

"You know it's gonna be soon, right?" Jean said, raising his eyebrows and reaching out a hand to him. "Your old man drank himself into oblivion and his liver is gonna conk out any day now. He hasn't done anything to fix the damage he's caused."

"Shut. Up," Eren growled, turning back around to keep walking and avoiding Jean's gaze.

Jean's hand wrapped around his arm, yanking him back. Lips were pressed against his roughly, until they softened. Jean stared into his eyes as he loosened his grip.

Eren glared at him for a moment, and then let his head fall onto his shoulder, leaning close. Jean wrapped his arms around him, holding him as he sobbed, gasping. Tears kept falling and they wouldn't stop. He was 22 and going nowhere.

* * *

Jean moved in to help Eren out, and a couple of months later Grisha Jaeger emptied his last bottle of Jack Daniels.

Eren wondered if his mom would show up at the funeral, but wasn't surprised when it was just him, a few of his dad's old friends (who he hadn't managed to piss off yet), and Jean. Not even Mikasa wanted to come, and Armin was too busy being a genius to travel back to town.

"Let's pack tonight. We'll drive to the city and get an apartment or something," Jean whispered in his ear as they closed the casket.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, they were living in the same apartment complex as some of their high school friends, who had all moved into the city and left Eren behind. Eren transferred to a larger grocery store, still as just a cashier, and Jean started looking for a job. He majored in law, hoping to become an attorney with a large firm one day.

They would take late night drives around the city, speeding down the highway with the music blaring and the top down. Eren was happy for the first time in a long time. When he smiled, Jean would smile back. He finally felt like he belonged somewhere, with someone. Like he could do something more with his life. Even Mikasa started talking to him again, looking lighter now that Grisha was dead and gone.

Every time he and Jean had an argument, they ended up fucking to ease the tension. In the morning, they would kiss their troubles away. Eren knew things were starting to get better. If he worked hard enough, maybe they would promote him to store manager, even though he didn't have a degree. Jean would finally find a job in his field, something steady they could rely on, and they could save up some money for a house.

Maybe they would live in the same neighborhood as his mom and her new family.

A small trickle of guilt wormed its way inside of him. His father was gone, and he was glad he didn't have to carry that dead weight any longer. But Eren couldn't help it. He reconciled himself to his father's behavior, having realized that he was a shitty parent and nearly robbed his own son of a better life. Now was his chance.

* * *

After a few months and a few odd jobs that didn't quite fit his field, Jean started staying later at the bars with their friends. Mikasa noticed, giving Eren a knowing look whenever they were together. She didn't come around as often as when they first moved to the city, especially after Jean had been drinking and was hungover. Eren found a better job with a higher pay, so they could at least afford the bills, but he knew there had to be more to life than this.

"You know, if you keep drinking like that, you'll end up like my dad," Eren whispered one night when Jean finally stumbled home. He would usually wait up for him, making sure he got home safely, and then tuck him into bed when he was too drunk to do so himself.

"Pffft." Jean waved his hand dismissively and Eren was taken back to his childhood. His father never acknowledged how much drinking had torn their family apart. He denied it until the bitter end, even after his wife had left and his children treated him like a burden.

"Jean. I'm serious," Eren said, desperation leaking into his words. "You still don't have a decent job. C'mon, I thought we were going to get a house?" Eren pushed, giving a hesitant, expectant smile.

"I'll do it tomorrow," Jean mumbled, bumping his shoulder against the wall and using it as a guide to their room.

Eren winced. It was an echo of his father, the shadow of the man who raised him. He took Jean's keys off the coffee table and got in the mustang. It was old now, with a few dents and scrapes. The upholstery was torn and burnt from cigarettes and carelessness. Jean used to worship this thing like a god, making it a religious ceremony to wash and clean it on a regular basis. Now it was just a tool he rarely used, left to rot.

Eren drove fast like they used to, the lights blurring together in the night sky. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he had to get there somehow.

He knew there had to be something better than this.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Eren's dad is partially based on my grandfather so yeah. Also I'm afraid of growing old without really living or accomplishing anything because at a certain point you lose opportunities and that bothers me.**


	2. Jean the Clown

**Jean the Clown**

 **Disclaimer: The song is based on "Pierrot the Clown" by Placebo. Lyrics had to be taken out but you can find them online.**

* * *

Jean touched the bottle to his lips, not really tasting the acrid swill of a day's old beer. Bottles sat on the table before him, lay at his feet, and piled up in the corner. He hadn't shaved in a few days. Hadn't showered, either. Just sat on the couch, holding a beer bottle and staring out of the window. Watching. Waiting.

Eren left him. It took him a while to notice, because his boyfriend didn't take any of his stuff with him, but when Jean woke up that day, he felt an absence in the air that sobered him up quickly. After searching their apartment and finding Eren missing, he started texting and calling. No answer. He called Mikasa, who told him in a clipped, obviously unimpressed tone, that she didn't know where Eren was, and even if she did, she would never tell him anyway. When she hung up, he stood staring at his phone's screen for a few moments.

His muddled mind began going over everything that could have led to this moment. What did he do, what did he say, to make Eren want to leave him?

" _You know, if you keep drinking like that, you'll end up like my dad."_

Jean's eyes widened as he remembered Eren's words, and the expression on his face. Fear. Not that he feared Jean's actions, but what he was becoming. Had become. Disappointment, sorrow, longing. _Don't do this to me_ , those once vibrant green eyes begged. _Not again_.

He clamped a hand over his mouth, stifling a sob or vomit. He didn't know which at this point, and it frightened him.

" _Pffft."_

" _Jean. I'm serious. You still don't have a decent job. C'mon, I thought we were going to get a house?"_

" _I'll do it tomorrow."_

He had just dismissed Eren's fear, probably hadn't even noticed it. Just like that. Just like Grisha Jaeger. The one man he was trying to get Eren away from so they could do something with their lives, and here he was turning into him. He was pathetic. A loser. A waste of space…

No. Eren would never say that to him.

But it was true. He never realized how much he had become Grisha Jaeger until it was too late, and now Eren was gone. When he stumbled out of the front door, blinking against the bright sun with a hand over his face, Jean realized something else was missing from his life. Something precious, something he should have cherished.

Eren took his car. Took his car and drove away into the night. He would probably never see him again. Jean fell to his knees on the street, tears streaming down his cheeks, choked sobbing coming from his open mouth.

* * *

The rest of the day, Jean tried to get in contact with _someone_ who knew where Eren was, what he was doing, or why he left. No one. There was one thing they kept repeating, though.

"It's probably because you kept getting drunk," Connie shrugged.

"You know you've turned into Grisha, right?" Marco said tentatively.

"You're just like Eren's father. No wonder he left. I was wondering when he would get sick of putting up with you," Ymir told him cruelly.

Mikasa's words were the harshest, when he finally ended up at her doorstep, face red and puffy from crying all day.

"He wasted a lot of time taking care of Grisha when he didn't have to. What makes you think he'd want to do it all again for you? You think he wants to see you like that? You think he wants to go through that again? Get over yourself, Jean. Eren deserves better than you."

She slammed the door in his face, and he trudged back to their apartment. He didn't want to, but his hand found the six-pack of beer in the fridge and grabbed it. By that night, he had finished it off and went to get more. Stumbling down the dark streets, he dimly wondered if someone would try to mug him. He wished someone did.

* * *

So now here he was. Ass glued to the couch, a beer stuck in his hand, staring out the window and hoping Eren would come back and take care of him like he did with his father. But Eren wasn't coming back. Not for him. He wasn't worth it.

 _Stupid. Pathetic. Worthless piece of trash._

Eren wasn't the only one who had a horrible father. Jean was just better at hiding it. His father never spoke against him in public, but if he ever dared to get low grades or never came out on top, he was subject to verbal abuse that had him crying into his pillow. His father pushed him to be the best. Pushed him verbally and emotionally, until one day he pushed him physically. Beat him with his belt while screaming obscenities.

" _You'll never get into Harvard with grades like that! I'm not going to let you ruin this family name, you hear that? No son of mine is going to be a pathetic waste of space! The Kirsteins are winners, and you're not going to ruin that!"_

Jean shuddered at the memory, taking another swig of his stale, warm beer. When he finally made it to college, it was at his graduation that he realized he had been living his father's dream, and not his. After telling Eren to do what he wanted with his life for so long, to stop looking after his loser of a father, he never saw himself for the hypocrite he was. He thought he wanted to be a lawyer, with a nice cushy job and a nice cushy life. Enough money to afford any mustang he wanted, in a condo overlooking the ocean or in the ritzy part of downtown.

But when he accepted his diploma, he realized that this was what his father wanted, had pushed him to do. He made Jean think that being a lawyer was his idea, his dream, when in reality it was the only option he was given. He couldn't even consider any other programs. His father would disown him if he tried to major in art or history.

" _Those are all worthless degrees, anyway. That Armin kid is going to end up homeless and relying on all of his friends to take care of him. I don't want you to end up like that. I want you to have everything you need and more. If he ever comes crawling to you for help, kick him to the curb."_

"Jokes on you, dad," Jean muttered. "Armin's a world-class archeologist, digging up ancient civilizations that are more intelligent than your left ass cheek," he snorted, raising the bottle to his lips again only to realize it was empty. Probably had been for a while.

He set it aside, rummaging through the bottles to find any full ones. None. They were all empty, clanking together as he pushed them aside. One fell out of his lap as he stood too abruptly, and he swayed, banging his knee into the table. Jean cursed, steadying himself with one hand on the couch as he clutched his wound. It would bruise.

It made him think of other bruises…

" _He was still my dad, you jackass!" Eren yelled as he slammed him into the wall._

" _All I'm saying is that he was a good for nothing father! You can't deny that, Eren," Jean shouted back, gritting his teeth._

" _It doesn't matter, he's dead now! I'll never get the chance to have a normal childhood. I'll never get a second chance at this life again. Just drop it, Jean!" Eren's eyes blazed out at him, rimming with tears._

 _Jean put his hands on Eren's shoulders and shook him. "He was a pathetic, useless loser. A waste of space. You don't have to be his caretaker anymore, Eren. It's over. Stop trying to defend him. You hate him too."_

" _I don't," Eren choked. He let Jean guide him to the bed. "That's the thing, Jean. I can never hate him. He's my dad."_

 _Jean shook his head, crashing his lips over Eren's to shut him up. When Eren tried to push him away, Jean ran his finger along the side of Eren's neck. It worked to calm him, and a sigh escaped his lips. Jean sucked on his neck, slipping his hand beneath Eren's pants and hearing him gasp, then moan. The conversation was over, for now._

Jean didn't understand what Eren was saying back then, but it all came crashing down on him in that moment. To Eren, family was everything. To Jean, they were nothing. He realized just how much he hated his own father, and why he didn't get Eren's complete forgiveness for Grisha. The fact that Grisha was his father meant he could be forgiven, could be loved, and could be defended. But Jean didn't see it that way.

* * *

As Jean walked through the apartment, he heard bottles clinking and nearly tripped over them a couple of times. His mind was still hazy, stuck in a perpetual drunken stupor from several days of drinking. It was strange how lucid his thoughts had become, how much he started to notice and understand about his life.

He took his anger at his father out on Eren with their fights. He sounded just like his old man, calling Grisha a useless waste of space, pathetic, a loser. How did he not notice? The reason why he hadn't found a job was because he hadn't been looking. Because he didn't want to be a lawyer. He didn't know _what_ he wanted to do with his life, but he knew he didn't want to walk in his father's footsteps. Jean didn't want to be his puppet anymore.

It was too late, though. He had a degree he didn't want and debt he couldn't pay. Eren worked so hard to support the both of them, and Jean did nothing except turn into another man. He was a human shell, a shape shifter, transforming into one horrible human being and then another until he found the right fit.

Jean saw his phone lying on the floor next to his bed, the notification light blinking sporadically. He picked it up, watching as it nearly slipped out of his hands, and couldn't remember the passcode to unlock it. After a few tries, he managed to hit the right numbers in the right order to see multiple messages from his friends.

Well, one friend. His ex-fiancé, Marco. They met in college, both wanting to become lawyers, although Jean was sure Marco wanted it for his own reasons, and not because his father told him to. When his parents found out they were dating, his father was just happy it wasn't 'that Eren Jaeger kid with the fucked up father and probably just as fucked up family genes.' It didn't matter that they couldn't have kids. Jean's father saw the Jaeger family as a parasite living off of the world's wealth. He never liked it when Jean hung out with him as a teenager, and threatened to kick him out of his home when he found out they were dating.

Marco was better. He was smart, amicable, and nice. He was pleasant toward his father and listened to what he said. He would keep Jean in line. At least, that's probably what his father thought.

 _Are you alright?_ Marco's text read.

 _Call me please._

 _Jean, if you don't let me know you're okay, I'm coming over._

 _Please just say something._

 _I'm coming over._

Jean forced his eyes to focus on the time when the last message was sent, but his vision blurred and he had to blink a few times to refocus. Giving up, he tossed the phone on his bed and trudged into the bathroom. Eren was never going to come back.

He slumped down into the tub, still in his clothes, and leaned forward to turn on the water. He didn't care if it was hot or cold, he just wanted to wash away his sins. Jean wanted the water to reverse time, to go back and do his life over again. Maybe he would be better at it, knowing back then what he knew now. Or maybe he would still find a way to fuck it up, because he was a pathetic loser and a waste of space.

He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling as the water came down, soaking his clothes and skin. He left his arm hanging over the side of the tub, not caring to move it, too numb to think of anything else but the fact that Eren wasn't going to come back to him. He had fucked up.

Mikasa was right, Eren deserved much better than him.

* * *

Jean was jolted awake by the sound of Marco's voice. He opened his eyes to see Marco's face hovering over him, surrounded by a bright light from the ceiling like a halo.

"'re you frrrreckled Jesusss?" he whispered, unsure if this was real or a dream or a drunken hallucination.

"Come on, let's get you out of here before you get sick," Marco said in a soft tone, tugging him out of the bathtub.

"S'was tryin' to take a baff," Jean slurred, swaying. He was cold. So cold. His body shivered and shuddered, convulsing in Marco's arms.

"Shit," he heard Marco cuss. It woke him up a bit more, since the other man rarely said a bad word or phrase, no matter how angry or upset he was. "How long have you been like this?" he asked.

"How long's Eren been gone?" Jean replied.

Marco gave him a pained look, continuing to heave him out of the tub. "I'm taking you to the doctor."

"No, m'fine. Just need to rest, is all," Jean tried to stand, tried to walk forward, wanting nothing more than to slump down into his bed.

"No, Jean. I saw all the bottles," Marco looked him in the eye. "You're going to the doctor," he repeated.

Jean couldn't do much more than blink and eventually nod, still bleary-eyed with a fuzzy mind.

* * *

They put an IV in his wrist and pumped fluid into his veins to fight back the effects of all the alcohol he'd consumed since Eren left. The doctor said he was lucky to still have his liver. Jean felt like Grisha Jaeger all over again and swore to sober up, promising Marco he would _stay_ sober as well. Jean hoped Eren would find out and come back one day.

He marked off the days on his calendar, both when Eren left and when he got sober. He kept careful track of how long it had been for both. Jean didn't go out drinking with the others anymore. Not one beer, glass of wine, or shot of liquor passed through his lips. He didn't even cook with wine vinegar or eat beer-battered fish and chips.

"If he knows I've sobered up, he'll come back to me," Jean said determinedly.

Marco gave him an uneasy smile. "Maybe. It's been a while. I haven't even heard from him. No one has."

"He's just seeing the world, like he always wanted. Maybe he's with Armin. Besides, Mikasa would know. He would have told her, eventually, where he went and why."

Still that same look from his friend. They all looked at him that way, like he was fragile somehow, like they didn't want to say something. Like they knew the truth.

Denial once again washed upon the shores of Jean's life. Eren was never coming back.

* * *

 **Author's Note: A bit sadder, probably, than Eren's story. It's slightly stereotypical to have Jean's father as the parent who forces their child into being exactly who they want them to be, but it fit this situation.**


	3. One Headlight

**One Headlight**

 **Disclaimer: The song referenced is "One Headlight" by The Wallflowers. Look up the lyrics for the full effect or read on AO3.**

* * *

When Eren came back to the small town where he grew up, he was different. Older, wiser, more experienced—all of the things you'd expect after traveling around the country in a mustang with the top down.

Of course, he also felt differently than when he left. Sometimes at night, when he was laying on the hood of Jean's car and staring at the bright stars in the night sky, he thought about those last few months together. It took him a while, but he finally reconciled himself to the fact that Jean wasn't his father. He had flaws, some similar to Grisha's, but ultimately they were not the same person. He forgave Jean for that. But he never regretted his decision to leave.

But he did regret leaving Jean behind.

"Oh…you're back." Mikasa gave a small gasp when she saw Eren Jaeger, no longer the lanky-limbed boy, but now a full-grown man, standing in her doorway. Her eyes blinked slowly, and then she pulled him into a hug. It was the first time they had actually seen each other since he left.

"It's been ten years, Eren!" she exclaimed, grasping his shoulders tight and looking into his eyes, searching for all of the changes.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I just…wanted to get away for a while," he replied with a sheepish shrug.

"I'm just glad you kept in touch and didn't cut us _all_ out of your life for good," she muttered, walking inside her home and letting him inside.

"Yeah…speaking of, I really wanted to see Jean before anyone else knows I'm here. Is he still at our apartment, or did he move?" Eren asked as he walked further in, glancing at the newer decorations Mikasa had put up on the walls.

His sister stopped in her tracks halfway down the hall to the kitchen. He watched her back stiffen and her fingers twitch at her sides.

"I know he's not your favorite person," he said carefully, "but he and I really need to talk about some things. Please Mikasa, just tell me where he is."

"The Jackson Memorial," she stated coldly, turning slowly to look back at him. There was remorse in her eyes, something painful lurking in the curve of her mouth.

"Is that a new apartment complex?" he asked, even though he knew it wasn't. He hadn't heard her right. That couldn't be it.

Her expression turned to pity, holding the sorrow of someone else. Walking back towards him, she sighed and looked into his eyes.

"Eren…Jean's dead."

* * *

Eren stood at the cemetery in front of Jean's grave. When they first told him, Eren assumed it was his liver, or something else to do with drinking. But it was much simpler than that—and also more complicated. They called it a 'broken-heart' but it was really a miniature heart attack due to the stress of working at a high-level law firm he was probably forced into by his father.

He missed the funeral. Missed the anniversaries his friends held for a few years after. Missed the way most of them forgot about him and moved on with their lives. Moving up in their careers, starting families, buying houses. The stuff he and Jean were supposed to do _together_. And Eren missed it all, driving 90 miles an hour down a German autobahn in a stolen, beat-up mustang.

As he stood in the quiet graveyard, he thought about their relationship and how it grew, only to wither and die like the flowers placed at the base of Jean's gravestone.

" _Hey Jaeger," Jean approached him, wearing his letterman's jacket and a smug smirk. Eren was prepared for another fight, fists already clenched into tight balls of rage. But he wasn't prepared for what Jean said. "Go out with me."_

" _Excuse me?"_

" _You heard me, pretty green eyes," Jean drawled, and then his expression softened to a genuine smile. "I want you to be my boyfriend."_

 _Eren stood stunned, backed into a corner by his enemy. Was this a trick? A cruel joke? No, the look on Jean's face was sincere._

" _But why?" Eren blurted._

 _Jean glanced away, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck. "The only reason why I pick a fight with you is just to be near you. I like how passionate and heated you get. But people have told me that's unhealthy, and I should just ask you out instead. I thought…I'd give it a shot." He looked back up at Eren, eyes like a doe._

" _Okay, yes," Eren heard himself say. Even if this was a trick, maybe Jean wouldn't expect him to respond like this. And if it wasn't? Well, he had a date for the game that night, who just so happened to be the star quarterback of their high school football team._

* * *

 _They lay laughing on the hood of Jean's car, a brand new mustang his father bought for winning the last game of the season and making their team the champions. It also conveniently came around the time of his sixteenth birthday._

 _The two teens barely fit on the hood, all broad backs and long legs, but they lay close together, chests heaving as they chuckled. Tears were forming in their eyes as they clutched their aching stomachs._

" _I swear, Connie legitimately believed that footballs were made out of pig's skin, and that's why we called it a pigskin. He even told Sasha it was basically bacon and she tried to eat one!" Jean said, making Eren laugh even harder and flail. The sound of his feet and fists hitting the car hood made Jean clutch him tight. "Careful, man, don't wanna mess up my new ride."_

" _Sorry." Eren was still giggling, but beginning to calm down. He nuzzled closer into Jean's chest. "I just…you make me laugh so much. I feel so much happier when I'm with you," he whispered._

" _Same here. I was so glad I saw you after the game before they dragged me back to the locker room."_

" _I'm pretty sure that kiss could've waited until we were somewhere more…private." Eren smiled, holding back more laughter as he relived the look of shock and confusion on the faces of his classmates as Jean pressed their lips together in the middle of the football field._

 _Jean shrugged. "Hey, I was happy and you were there and I got caught up in the moment. No one would've thought twice about it if you were a girl."_

" _Yeah, it was still funny to see the coach's face get all red."_

" _Ah, Shadis can blow me," Jean snorted._

" _Hey!" Eren sat up on his elbows, looking down at Jean, who stared back. "That's my job, isn't it?" he grinned._

" _You little imp," Jean smirked, pulling him back down. The car rocked a bit and they paused before bursting into chuckles again._

* * *

" _I'm glad you came back," Eren said, much older now but still lying in Jean's arms. They were in his childhood home, in his childhood bed, but it felt so much bigger with the both of them trying to fit in it._

" _Me too," Jean murmured, kissing the top of his head. Their fingers curled together and eyes closed as they listened to each other breathe._

 _The sound of clanking bottles had Eren's eyes snapping open. He heard grumbling and saw the light from the kitchen come on underneath the door as Grisha fumbled around for another bottle of beer. Eren sighed, turning to press his head into Jean's collarbone. Jean rubbed his back, lips brushing against his forehead._

" _I promise, I'll get you out of here one day," Jean whispered._

" _I don't really care where we go," Eren told him. "Just anywhere but here."_

* * *

" _Jean." Eren stood in the doorway, watching Jean watch the TV with a can in his hand._

" _Hm?" came the response._

" _How many have you had?" Eren asked._

 _Jean didn't respond for a moment, but finally tore his eyes away from the screen to glance up at Eren. His eyebrows came together in confusion, until Eren nodded toward the can in his hand. Jean looked down at it. "Oh, that. Um…just three."_

" _Three?" Eren exclaimed, walking closer. "You got home an hour ago!"_

 _Jean shrugged, taking a swig and going back to the TV. "It helps me wind down."_

" _Jean, working at a convenience store isn't that bad," Eren said in a tired tone. Working as a cashier at a major grocery store, however, was a bit different. Still, it could be worse. That's what Eren kept telling himself when he thought of giving up. It could be worse…and it could also be better._

" _I'm on my feet all day. I have to deal with shitheads who don't have anything else better to do with their day than fuck up mine. I like to relax when I can finally come home," Jean snapped._

 _Eren sighed. "Just be careful with that, alright?"_

" _Mhm," Jean replied, taking another sip, his eyes glued to the TV._

* * *

" _Let's go for a drive." Jean came up behind Eren, whispering in his ear, arms wrapped around his waist. Eren was tired from working a full day's shift at the store, but he could never resist a night drive in the mustang with Jean. "We'll put the top down."_

 _Eren smiled, turning around to kiss his boyfriend long and hard. When they came apart, Jean led him out of the door and to the car. He slid inside the driver's seat as Eren ran around to the passenger side and got in. The top was already coming down when Jean revved the engine and they jerked forward. Eren laughed and Jean did it again, then stomped on the gas as they sped off into the night._

 _The wind was cold, but it felt good on Eren's face. The music was up high and they were singing along loudly as they drove. Jean was going fast—but they always went fast—and the lights of the city were a blur as they passed by. It was just like the old days, when they were kids in high school…_

 _A horn blared and the car jerked to the side, Jean laughing with one hand on the wheel. It startled Eren out of his memories quickly. "Woah, easy there. You can slow down a bit, you don't want to get a speeding ticket out here."_

" _Awwww c'mon! No cop is gonna catch me in this baby," Jean stated, pushing the car faster instead. Eren watched the arrow on the speedometer climb higher._

 _He finally looked at his boyfriend and noticed what he should have long ago. "Jean, are you drunk?" His eyes were glassy, cheeks too red even with the wind, voice too loud over the music. They were swerving on the road, driving over the small rectangular dividers between the lanes._

" _What? No! I only had a few drinks when I got home," Jean waved him off, and the car swerved again. Eren clutched the door and middle console to keep steady._

" _How many is a few?" Eren said, fighting to be heard over the sound of the wind and the music and Jean's laughter._

" _Why do you always ask that? I can handle a few drinks, Eren. Come on, you're ruining our romantic night drive."_

 _Eren closed his mouth, but Jean was wrong. He didn't want to start another fight, not when his boyfriend was obviously drunk and driving recklessly, but he couldn't let this continue any longer. He didn't want them to get in an accident because Jean was in denial._

" _No, you've had too much to drink and you shouldn't be driving. Either pull over and let me get behind the wheel, or slow the fuck down," Eren growled. He hated how much older he sounded, how much of an adult he had become. When they were younger, it would have thrilled him; how fast they were going, the chance of getting caught, even a crash was exciting back then._

 _But now he just thought of his responsibilities. The bills he had to pay, the future he wanted so desperately, and the boyfriend he loved too much to see turn into an alcoholic just like his father._

 _Jean grew quiet, looking over at Eren and turning the music down. "I thought we were having fun. It's been a while since I took you for a ride."_

" _Yeah, that's because you can't afford the gas," Eren told him. "You can't keep living like this._ We _can't keep living like this."_

 _The car slowed down to a normal speed as Jean stared ahead. "I quit today."_

" _What? Why!" Eren exclaimed._

" _I didn't go to college and get this stupid degree to work at a convenience store, Eren," Jean snorted._

" _You went to Harvard, you have a law degree, why can't you get into a firm or something like you said?"_

" _It's not that easy."_

" _You're not even trying."_

 _Jean glared at him. "You're a fucking nag."_

" _And you're…" Eren held back the insult. Swallowed it and felt the lump go down his throat. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat. "Let's just go home, okay? I had a long day and need to get some sleep for tomorrow."_

 _He heard Jean sigh, then held on tightly again as he felt his boyfriend pull a sharp U-turn, driving back the way they had come._

* * *

Eren's eyes opened, seeing the name and dates carved into the gray stone. The longer he stared, the more the words became a blur.

"Hey Eren, I heard you were back," Marco approached him with that same kind and tired smile he always had, carrying fresh flowers.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" Eren asked softly, glancing back at the grave as Marco exchanged the old flowers for the new ones.

"Well, most of us didn't even know where you were. And we weren't sure if you…cared, to be honest," Marco answered. "I hoped you would come back sooner, or at least get back in touch so the two of you could talk. He missed you, sobered up just for you, waiting for you to come back."

"I was afraid of what I would come back to," Eren whispered. "But I know now that I shouldn't have left him here, not the way I did. I felt trapped and wanted to get away, but he was just as trapped. I literally stole his car. I'm surprised he never reported it."

"He thought you were mad at him, and knew he deserved it." They stood in front of Jean's headstone, staring at it. "I tried to help him, but there was only so much I could do without falling into the same pit as you and your father. No offense."

"None taken."

Marco had grown as well. He still had a gentle soul, but he didn't hide the truth just to make anyone feel better. Hearing the words hurt, but Eren was glad they were coming from him. His other friends weren't as kind. Even after Jean sobered up, the way he treated them—and treated Eren—still carried a weight of mistrust and scorn in their eyes.

"So what all did you do?" Marco asked after a moment.

"A lot," Eren said. "Drove around until I was too tired to keep my eyes open, slept in the back seat a few times when I couldn't find a cheap hotel or couldn't afford one. Took on a few odd jobs in some of the cities I went to just to make some cash for gas. Finally found my mom again and stayed with her for a little while. Got to meet some interesting people, too."

"Sounds like fun." Marco smiled at him.

Eren nodded. "It was."

"So why did you decide to come back?" Marco asked. It was the question they all repeated when they first saw him.

He was in his forties now, and the wear was starting to show on his face. It was probably the wind from having the top down so often. He always felt free with the wind in his hair and the road right in front of him, with the lights in the distance beckoning him home.

"I missed him," Eren told him.

Marco's eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave a pained, sad little smile. "Yeah, I always thought you two would be drawn together."

Eren stared at the words carved in Jean's headstone.

* * *

 **Author's Note: And here is the end to this sad little tale.**


End file.
